thank you.

I want all those who think they are lucky to raise their glasses and say thank you. Thank you to God, thank you to life, thank you to luck, thank you to fucking anything. Just say thank you. Say thank you and mean it. Mean it. I am serious. Say thank you for your house, say thank you for your car and for your family, thank you for your money, thank you for your job, thank you for your food and for your bed, thank you for your mind, thank you for your parents and your grand parents, thank you for your health. Say it. Be grateful. Be grateful for your everything. Mean it.

Where do you go to my lovely?

I’m going to start this with a cliché. Ok. Are you ready? Here we go…
Life is such a joke. Ok. I have said it. I feel better now.
I am fucking scared of death. I know, its absurd. It’s an irrational fear but I can’t help it. I can’t. It’s not that I am scared of dying. No. I am scared of being left alone. I don’t want to be abandoned. A fear of abandonment? Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I am scared.
Today I attended the first funeral of my life and I know it is the first of many. I hated it. I wore a black dress and under it black panties. I wore a heavy burden. The burden of being alive.
We are here for a fraction of a second and then we’re gone. Poof! Like we never existed. Please don’t get me wrong. I am not going through existential angst. I already passed through that phase a while ago… with Camus.
This is the reality of reality. Coming to terms with what it is to be alive. What? Are we supposed to distract ourselves from the obvious? Are we supposed to have the times of our lives until the grim reaper is ready for us?
I say… go crazy. I say let’s have the time of our lives (no pun intended), I say let’s go to hell laughing.
I say all this… but what I really want to say is please don’t leave me alone.
Please don’t leave me alone.
I don’t want to be left alone.
Please.

Singer

I just bought an antique Singer sewing machine. I bought it in the hopes that it will sew my new life together. In a different pattern. One that I am not familiar with. I think after twenty two years of the same design, fabric, and style, I am ready for something outrageously different. After twenty two years of living in the same clothes I am ready for a new outfit, something that will blow my mind away.
So… Please Singer sowing machine make me a new dress. One with LOUD colours and AGGRESSIVE cuts. One that will make me stand out in a crowd. I think I am ready. And if I am not please force me to be.

hey dont dont go...

Miami.

I am going through a phase right now of "Miami Vice". I am liking that theme more and more every day... you know, the bright orange sun set, the hot purple and hot pink t-shirts...cool sunglasses.... you know, a bit of gangster violence here and there...very 80's.

(oh. by the way...for the record.. i've never actually been to Miami...um... yeah.)